SOBRAN'S --
The Real News of the Month
September 2002
Volume 9, No. 9
Editor: Joe Sobran
Publisher: Fran Griffin (Griffin Communications)
Managing Editor: Ronald N. Neff
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{{ Material dropped from features or changed solely for
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CONTENTS
Features
-> Bush's Brain
-> Thoughts on Power (plus Exclusives to this edition)
-> Slandering the Right
-> Cloning PSYCHO
Nuggets (plus Exclusives to this edition)
List of Columns Reprinted
FEATURES
Bush's Brain
(page 1)
"So far is it from being true that men are naturally
equal," Samuel Johnson once observed to James Boswell,
"that we see that no two men can be together half an
hour, without one of them attaining a very evident
superiority over the other."
As the Bush administration was announcing plans for
a plainly aggressive -- alias "pre-emptive" -- war on
Iraq, it suddenly hit me: this will be Dick Cheney's war.
The vice president is pulling the president's chain. This
is, in truth, the Cheney administration.
Listen to the two men speak. Bush is notoriously
inarticulate; or, as I would put it, he has a way of
wandering into a sentence without knowing how he's going
to find his way out of it. He is inarticulate because he
is indecisive; a purposeful man doesn't speak that way.
The English sentence has an inherent tendency to dribble
off; it doesn't force you to think ahead, as, I gather,
you have to do when speaking German or Latin. Bush is a
mumbling, bumbling, blundering man. His speech reveals
his character. His predicates sound like clumsy
afterthoughts.
Cheney, by contrast, is decisive. The style is the
man. He knows what he wants. He speaks crisply. His
speech is that of a forceful man in full command of his
own mind. When he and Bush are alone together, Bush is
badly outnumbered. And Cheney has wanted war with Iraq
from the start.
It has already become a commonplace to say that
Cheney enjoys more authority than any previous vice
president. But it's more than that. He has a daunting
force of personality. When Bush couldn't make up his mind
about war, Cheney made it up for him.
The relation between Bush and Cheney is like that of
a king and an ambitious prime minister. Bush might as
well be a hereditary monarch; he is president only
because his father was a president. But Cheney has
reached his plateau by will, intelligence, and ability.
You don't have to like him in order to respect him. He
understands power.
The mother of George III of England is said to have
urged him, "George, be a king." Propriety dictates that
George W. Bush appear "presidential." He does his best to
learn his lines. But he is a nonentity. It's Cheney, in
spite of his shaky heart, who imposes his will on this
administration. He is the man to watch. Usually the vice
president is a running gag. This one isn't.
Though usually described as conservative, Cheney
sees eye to eye with hawkish Jewish neoconservatives like
Paul Wolfowitz and Richard Perle. He probably cares
little for Israel, but he cares even less for the
Palestinians, and his aims are broadly congruent with
Ariel Sharon's: joint American-Israeli domination, for
the time being, of the Middle East. Both men find Bush
ductile material.
This isn't the first time a nominal head of state
has been ruled by a cunning and determined underling.
Cheney is Jeeves to Bush's Bertie Wooster.
Thoughts on Power
(page 2)
Advanced weaponry, not the U.S. Constitution,
defines the nature of the U.S. Government today. It
represents a standing threat to kill millions of people.
Usually the threat is directed against foreigners, but
there is no reason why it couldn't be directed against
Americans if necessary. Not that I expect this to happen;
we are all resigned to living under the Superpower.
* * *
Once upon a time, the ordinary man was a peasant who
feared famine and disease; even the worst of kings was
too weak and remote to harm him. Today the ordinary man
has no fear of famine or disease killing him and his
family, but the State knows where to reach him. It has
new weapons, and it keeps good records. A Richard III
might pose danger to his own flesh and blood, but he
didn't even know the names of all his subjects.
* * *
We are hardly aware of our despair. We no longer
even aspire to the natural freedom our ancestors could
take for granted. Imagine the horror they would have felt
if someone had predicted the kind of state we take for
granted!
* * *
The threat of the state makes liberals of us all.
Politics is our Black Death. It infects everything, even
our thoughts and attitudes.
* * *
C.S. Lewis observes that in the democratic age we no
longer speak of "rulers," but of "leaders." Of a "ruler,"
he continues, one expects the sober virtues of justice,
wisdom, and clemency -- qualities that preserve peace and
tradition. Of a "leader" one expects dash, drive,
enthusiasm, dynamism -- qualities that hurry the populace
into change of some sort.
* * *
Change itself is now presumed to be improvement.
Politicians campaign on the mantra of "change," heedless
of what they destroy.
* * *
The old, weak king was flattered by such addresses
as "mighty sovereign." He needed to exaggerate his power.
But the far worse tyrants of our own time want to be
known as our "comrades," "fellow citizens," and "public
servants."
* * *
Isn't it droll that politics is called "public
service"? It's really nothing but competition for power,
especially the power to take the citizen's wealth. The
State is a monopoly of force, that's all; its moral
pretensions are fraudulent. Anyone who doubts this should
ponder the character of the most successful politicians
-- Franklin Roosevelt, the Kennedys, Lyndon Johnson, Bill
Clinton, and other notable "public servants." Is it mere
accident that so many criminals have been in charge of
the laws? Or does this reflect the very essence of the
system? The answer seems to me quite obvious.
* * *
For 80 years, Communism has blighted the fine arts,
along with everything else; yet I can't get over my
amazement that Sergei Prokofiev, one of Stalin's pets,
was one of the greatest composers of the twentieth
century. In fact he and Stalin died the same day:
March 5, 1953. Prokofiev was perhaps the greater loss.
After all, he was a genuine creator; Stalin was only a
critic; and, like many critics, prone to undue severity.
Exclusive to the electronic version:
Both sides in the gun-control debate seem to me to
miss the chief point of the Second Amendment. Its purpose
is to prevent the Federal Government from disarming the
state militias. The "security of a free state" meant the
security of the free (and sovereign) state against the
Federal Government itself. The Civil War destroyed the
sovereignty of the states, and the Federal Government's
nuclear arsenal has buried the old federal system good
and deep. The Second Amendment tried to ensure a balance
of military power between the Feds and the states.
Slandering the Right
(pages 3-5)
Once again, a friend of mine has written a best-
selling book. And once again, it comes as no surprise,
the friend is Ann Coulter.
The book is SLANDER: LIBERAL LIES ABOUT THE
AMERICAN RIGHT (Crown Publishers). It's a runaway chart-
topper. As the title suggests, it disdains subtle
understatement. In a dust-jacket blurb, Robert Novak
notes, "Ann Coulter is one of the fiery new breed of
conservative commentators who don't worry what the
Establishment thinks of them." Now *that's* subtle
understatement.
The first sentence of the book's first paragraph
reads, "Political 'debate' in this country is
insufferable." The paragraph ends, "It's all liberals'
fault." On page 26, liberals "are completely unhinged."
On page 55 we are told, "Principle is nothing to
liberals. Winning is everything."
The note is held throughout the book. Miss Coulter
shows that smearing conservatives has become the norm for
American liberals. Liberals think nothing of saying or
insinuating that conservatives are stupid, Neanderthal,
extremist, bigoted, heartless, sadistic, Nazi, and
fanatically religious (though also, of course,
un-Christian). The same smears Democrats make
flamboyantly -- as when Ted Kennedy warned that Robert
Bork would bring back "back-alley abortions," "segregated
lunch counters," censorship of the arts, and the police
state -- show up in more muted form in what purports to
be impartial journalism.
Just when you think she's lapsed into unrestrained
exaggeration, Miss Coulter produces precise and footnoted
quotations from the villains themselves to back up her
case. She's a lawyer who's come to rumble. Her trademark
is wild, reckless accuracy.
I've known Ann -- enough of this "Miss Coulter"
stuff -- since the mid 1980s, when she was just out of
law school. Never a dull moment. The first thing to be
said about her is that she is always laughing. Loudly.
When she laughs quietly, as she sometimes does, you
wonder whether her spirits are low. You seldom have to
wonder long.
Ann and I quickly became, I think I may accurately
say, pals. We have shared many a dinner and drink, often
chaperoned by my stern and humorless grandson, who has
failed to quell her spirits. She grew up in genteel New
Canaan, Connecticut, raised by her surpassingly good-
natured parents with two adoring big brothers. Nobody had
to push her to be an overachiever.
For years she moved back and forth between New York
(which she loves) and Washington (which bores her),
working as a lawyer while rising within the conservative
movement. Her energy is immense, and she might have spent
more time in Washington if she could have skied directly
between the two cities. Her cheerful combativeness only
makes her countless friends, all of whom find her
enchanting, in a mildly alarming sort of way. She is like
a happily bubbling volcano.
I have watched her growing success with pleasure and
a pride I might be tempted to call avuncular, if she ever
showed respect for my age. Which she doesn't. She treats
me like the youth I still secretly long to believe I have
never ceased to be. She never makes me feel old, though
her pep sometimes does.
Ann has become a regular on television and radio
talk shows, developing a polemical style suited to the
age of Geraldo Rivera and Alan Dershowitz. It helps, at
least on TV, that she is also smashingly good-looking. (I
myself noticed this before she was a star.)
She really came into her own during the Lewinsky
scandal, when liberals were at their most contortive,
damning (as she notes) the Starr Report of Clinton's
amorous activities as "pornographic" while denying that
those activities were "sex." Seldom have liberal
hypocrisies been so manifest. Seldom has *any* hypocrisy
been so rowdy and raucous. Clinton's conservative foes
were always "sex-obsessed"; Clinton himself, sneaking a
girl into the Oval Office for an Easter morning tryst,
was not.
On the eve of the impeachment vote in the Senate,
NBC spiked an interview with Juanita Broaddrick, who
plausibly charged that Clinton had raped her in 1978; the
liberal line was that the story involved only Clinton's
"private life," though he was his state's attorney
general in 1978 and -- ex officio, one would think -- was
supposed to be prosecuting rape, not committing it. (One
must make some allowance, of course, for local
traditions.) Anyway, couldn't conservatives get their
minds off sex?
As the scandal raged, the canons of feminism were
suspended. Because Clinton was "good on women's issues"
-- i.e., pro-abortion -- he was given a pass on what had
formerly been the vital issue of "sexual harassment."
Feminists like Gloria Steinem rushed to defend him
against women who accused him of uninvited fondling, and
worse. So much for the notion that such charges ought
always to be taken seriously, especially when the accused
were "powerful white males" -- a category that would seem
to include the president of the United States. Like
Hillary Clinton, the feminists stood by their man.
They did so with a vengeance. Ann devotes several
pages to the nastiest episode in recent public discourse:
liberal and feminist attacks on Clinton's female accusers
as "ugly." It's hard to remember, or imagine, anything
more vicious than the ridicule of Paula Jones and Linda
Tripp for the imperfections of their faces. Such puerile
cruelty, one would think, could never occur outside the
schoolyard. And it found its mark: both women were
actually driven to undergo plastic surgery! Mrs. Tripp
even made a bizarre public apology for her looks. To this
day, no liberal has apologized to *her.*
Journalists have called Linda Tripp
"Barracudaville," smelling of "gunpower and garlic,"
"ugly and evil," and "Howard Stern in a fright wig," "a
snitch, and an ugly one, at that." Syndicated columnist
Julianne Malveaux referred to the "ugly stick [Tripp's]
been beaten with -- there's something wrong with that
woman, I'm serious." Actress Rose McGowan (JAWBREAKER)
told the VILLAGE VOICE, "One thing that gives me
pleasure is how ugly [Tripp] is. That's a karmic point.
She deserves to be ugly." Another female (!) columnist,
Heather Mallick, wrote, "Linda Tripp's the hulking dykey
one and book agent Lucianne Goldberg's her ugly sister."
In the book MONICA'S STORY, the author, Andrew Morton,
also wrote of the "two ugly sisters, Linda Tripp and
Lucianne Goldberg, [who] ensured that Monica never made
it to the ball." Liz Langley, a (female) opinion
columnist, said Linda Tripp and Paula Jones were neither
"attractive nor possessed of human DNA." They "look like
a bloated carcass and whatever's pecking at it."
If you think Ann overgeneralizes about liberals,
ponder that episode. Only a tiny handful of liberals
protested the "ugly" taunts -- so cruel, so unseemly, so
stupid, so irrelevant. One might almost say, so
illiberal. You'd think feminists, above all, would object
to humiliating women on the score of their looks. Or at
least that they would be embarrassed to be seen doing so.
Not at all. Instead, they took a lynch mob's glee in
inflicting pain on the defenseless.
Taking their cue, comedians like Jay Leno, sensitive
to liberal-feminist pieties, joined in the fun. Nobody in
their audiences cried, "For shame!" They had received
cultural permission to mock ugly women. Well, *some*
ugly women. The women in Clinton's cabinet were not to be
confused with contestants in a beauty pageant, but they
remained off-limits to this jolly sport.
Such atavistic "humor" exposed the superficiality of
the liberal pieties. They can be suspended whenever
liberal tactical interests require it. Racial
proprieties, as Ann shows, were similarly suspended when
liberals mounted concerted attacks on Clarence Thomas
(who was called, inter alia, a "lawn jockey") and other
conservative blacks. Ideological dogmas aside, simple
decency ought to have forbidden such vilification. But
liberals were unashamed to appeal to the very bigotries
they accuse conservatives of harboring.
Ann has her own heroine: the amazing Phyllis
Schlafly, one of the greatest grassroots political
activists in American history, whom the liberal media
consistently ignore, belittle, and exclude from their
lists of Important Women. Her book A CHOICE, NOT AN ECHO
sold more than three million copies -- and was ignored by
the same media. She single-handedly defeated the Equal
Rights Amendment, which was "supported by every living
ex-president, 90 percent of the U.S. Congress, and every
major newspaper, television network, and magazine in the
nation, including thirty-six women's magazines with a
combined circulation of sixty million readers [as well
as] both the Democrat and Republican party platforms."
Yet Mrs. Schlafly is marginalized, while the media fawn
on the frivolous feminist Gloria Steinem, whose chief
accomplishment has been to extract more than a million
dollars from the media mogul Mort Zuckerman (with whom
she also happened to be sleeping).
One of the most provocative of Ann's contentions in
SLANDER is that the hidden core of liberalism is
snobbery: "That's the whole point of being a liberal: to
feel superior to people with less money." I think there
is a deep truth here -- as witness the hatred of
prosperous white liberals for humbler whites like the Two
Uglies -- but she doesn't pursue it. "The poor," even the
criminal poor, are eligible for boundless liberal
indulgence, but the slightly unpoor merit only liberal
contempt, especially when they vote Republican.
You don't have to be a Republican to see that the
major media tilt the news in favor of the Democrats. The
entertainment media likewise shape their sitcoms and even
action movies around liberal mythology. Ann's style is
more accusatory than analytical, but she is usually
right. She is not the sort of conservative who sighs that
her enemies are "well-meaning." Since when do well-
meaning people gloat over your big nose?
All this brazen partisanship, among journalists as
well as Democrats, has been perfect material for Ann's
brassy satirical humor. Not for her the judicious
circumlocutions of Bill Buckley and George Will; this
stuff is a riot, and she laughs as she deflates it.
Her first best-seller, HIGH CRIMES AND MISDEMEANORS,
made a powerful case that Clinton deserved to be removed
from office on many counts, most of them unrelated to
girls as such. The man was an out-and-out criminal. By
the time he finished his second term, Clinton himself had
proved this even to the satisfaction of his defenders.
In a terrific climactic chapter, Ann examines
liberalism's amazing treatment of its chief bogeyman,
"the religious right." The term is never defined --
though "even a witch hunt requires a working definition
of the witch," as Ann remarks -- and few of its leaders
are ever identified except for Pat Robertson, who
actually happens to be a rather squishy conservative. (He
has even evinced sympathy for China's population
"problem.")
Yet the media, led by the NEW YORK TIMES, have waged
an endless and hysterical campaign against the "religious
right," portraying it as a fascistic menace and
ridiculing its impotence. The WASHINGTON POST has described
its membership as "largely poor, uneducated, and easy to
command." (Ann notes that Robertson's presumed
"followers" ignored his plea to drop impeachment
proceedings against Clinton.) Blacks, Jews, Hispanics,
and other ethnic minorities vote far more monolithically
for Democrats than white Protestants do for Republicans,
yet the media never call these groups "uneducated" or
"easy to command."
Liberalism's chief charge against the phantom
"religious right" is "intolerance," an intolerance that
threatens to impose absolute censorship and smother
American culture. Just where this alleged threat is
located, and what forms it takes, are always left vague.
Ann's comment: "When anal sex, oral sex, premarital sex
are all gleefully laughed about on prime-time TV, the
peril of religious values infecting the culture would
seem to be somewhat overrated." Quoting Bryant Gumbel's
absurdly deferential interview with Hugh Hefner ("In a
macropolitical sense, do you think the Gore preoccupation
with morality is a frightening turn for the party?"), Ann
laughs: "Eternal vigilance must be maintained against the
specter of morality! A guy who puts out a skin magazine
is being interviewed as if he were a head of state, and
liberals are worried that excessive morality is wrecking
the country."
The religious right is the safest of targets to
attack; but because they pretend it's an imminent danger,
they can praise each other for daring to criticize it, as
if they were courting martyrdom. Ann's comment: "Never
have acts of cowardice been so lavishly hailed as raw
courage." She is never funnier than on liberals' "mind-
numbingly similar" denunciations of "organized religion,"
which she copiously quotes. Commenting on the columnist
Molly Ivins, who fancies herself an independent soul (one
of her books was archly titled MOLLY IVINS CAN'T SAY
THAT, CAN SHE?), Ann asks reasonably, "What precisely
does Ivins say that everyone else is not saying?"
The TIMES, true to form, ridiculed Catholics for
protesting an obscene and blasphemous portrait of the
Virgin Mary in a tax-funded exhibit at the Brooklyn
Museum of Art -- yet refused to mention the pornographic
details (photos of female genitalia) the Catholics were
outraged by. The reader was invited to assume that the
protestors were religious nuts seeking to blight artistic
freedom.
Yet not long afterward, the TIMES was feigning
indignation that George W. Bush had spoken at the "anti-
Catholic" Bob Jones University. Now this small, unduly
notorious university is anti-Catholic only in the sense
that it rejects Catholicism on standard Reformation
doctrinal grounds. In that respect, it is perfectly
rational and can be called objectionable only insofar as
Protestantism is objectionable. But the TIMES's own
hostility to Catholicism, by contrast, is quite
irrational. For example, its editorials demand changes in
the Church's traditional positions on contraception and
the celibate male priesthood, never mind whether such
changes could be reconciled with Catholic doctrine. Bob
Jones would like the Catholic Church to change, but to
change, at least, into a definite thing; liberalism would
like the Church to change into nothing.
SLANDER brings an unexpected indictment against
liberals: that these arbiters and guardians of
sensitivity are themselves boors. After reading more than
250 pages of characteristic quotations, you can hardly
doubt it. Their own standards convict them. I was
admittedly partial to the author when I picked the book
up; I was even more partial to her when I put it down.
Cloning PSYCHO
(page 6)
I've spent much of this summer with a grandson who,
at age eleven, already has, to my dismay, an encyclopedic
knowledge of slasher movies. In some obscure way it
seemed fitting that he should induce me, one August
evening, to watch the video of Gus Van Sant's curious
remake of Alfred Hitchcock's 1960 classic, PSYCHO, the
direct ancestor of today's epidemic of slasher films.
Van Sant's version isn't an adaptation; it makes no
attampt to improve on the original, or even to add some
new element to it. It's an almost slavishly faithful
shot-by-shot reproduction, retaining even most of the
original dialogue and Bernard Hermann's shrieking
soundtrack score. Its chief effect is to make you
appreciate Hitchcock's genius.
I first saw Hitchcock's PSYCHO in 1968, long after
it came out, on late-night television, with commercial
interruptions. I'd heard my friends discussing it for
years and wondered what I'd missed. I'd missed plenty.
Even seen under adverse conditions, it was by far the
scariest movie I'd ever seen. And one of the most
brilliant. I hardly slept that night, torn between terror
and admiration.
At the time Hitchcock was becoming a cult figure,
thanks in large part to a book of interviews Francois
Truffaut conducted with him. Eschewing any philosophy of
life or cinema, the old man simply explained in very
practical terms how he kept audiences in suspense, film
by film, scene by scene. He believed in using violence
sparingly; even PSYCHO has only a few seconds of it, but
uses it to maximum effect, making the audience expect far
more than it actually sees.
Younger directors adored Hitchcock, but his only
film most of them wanted to emulate was PSYCHO, which
was actually a departure from his more romantic
thrillers. THE THIRTY-NINE STEPS, REBECCA, NOTORIOUS,
REAR WINDOW, VERTIGO, and NORTH BY NORTHWEST each has, as
PSYCHO does not, a central love story. Hitchcock was a
great director, but a baneful influence.
Van Sant's version is shot in color. The original is
black and white. It was the first black-and-white movie
Hitchcock had made in years, and for an artistic reason:
color dissipates tension. Orson Welles once called black-
and-white "the actor's best friend." It may also be the
director's. It focuses attention on the dramatic
essentials. Even the shower scene (a great example of
Hitchcock's economy; he took a whole week to film a
minute's hacking) loses force in color, with scarlet
blood flowing down the drain.
In fairness to Van Sant, he has probably attempted
the impossible. PSYCHO is by now so familiar -- we've
all seen it (and its imitators) so often -- that its
story has lost most of its power to frighten. It's easy
to forget that when it first appeared, it was so
terrifying that its stars' careers actually suffered from
their association with their roles.
No danger of that with the remake. In the 1960s
nobody could forget Anthony Perkins as the eerily
eccentric Norman Bates or Janet Leigh as the ripely
alluring Marion Crane, hacked to death in the shower.
Today, everyone has already forgotten Vince Vaughn and
Anne Heche playing the same characters. He is too
masculine; come to think of it, so is she. (She is best
known for her lesbian affair with Ellen DeGeneres, which
earned the pair a welcome at the Clinton White House.)
She's petite, but not feminine -- even her short hair
looks dykish. She also lacks Leigh's rich voice, just as
Vaughn lacks Perkins's touching yet ominous vocal
hesitancy.
In fact, the most implausible feature of Van Sant's
version is that he posits a world of 1998 in which nobody
has seen PSYCHO. His script adjusts for inflation the
amount of money Marion steals from her employer.
The casting presents problems too. Vince Vaughn, a
fine virile fellow, just isn't Norman; he's far too tough
and normal to give you the creeps, and his "mother's"
derision of his manhood doesn't ring true. Anne Heche
isn't nearly as attractive as Janet Leigh; nothing to
stir Norman's weird depths there. William H. Macy, as the
detective Arbogast, has none of the ominous presence
Martin Balsam had in the original, which made his murder
so shocking; Macy's face and voice are comically weak.
Julianne Moore, as Marion's sister, is a more commanding
actress than Vera Miles, but her very strength is a
failing: when she snoops in the Bates house at the film's
climax, it holds no terror for her. She's ready for
anything. "I can handle a sick old woman," she says
confidently, and you believe her.
Van Sant's PSYCHO seems to have been made for the
sole purpose of demanding comparison with the original,
but it's made in such a way as to ensure that the
comparison will be unfavorable. If this had been the
first and only PSYCHO, it might have been a good
thriller, but it wouldn't have captured the imagination
or supplied us with lasting archetypes. Even aping
Hitchcock's every shot, Van Sant has managed to turn this
masterpiece into one more banal slasher flick.
NUGGETS
MAXIMUM SECURITY: I just read that our government
"protects our liberty." Yes, just as the Berlin Wall
protected the liberty of those it enclosed. (page 9)
OH, BY THE WAY: Would Bush excuse Japan's "pre-emptive"
strike at Pearl Harbor? (page 10)
REDEEMING QUALITIES: Say this much for "rogue nations" --
at least they aren't isolationist! (page 10)
RACIAL JUSTICE NOTES: President Robert Mugabe's fierce
anti-white expropriation policies in Zimbabwe are getting
a little publicity here, but nobody seems unduly upset by
it. Nor is the American press covering the murderous
anti-white campaign in liberated South Africa, where
militant blacks, with official encouragement, chant,
"Kill the Boer, kill the farmer," and they've proved they
mean it. If the heroic Nelson Mandela is raising his
voice in protest, I haven't heard it. Et tu, Tutu?
(page 12)
Exclusive to the electronic version:
FROM THE WORLD OF SCIENCE: I just heard a radio interview
with one Olivia Judson, a British expert on the sex lives
of animals. A great believer in the wisdom of Mother
Evolution, obviously -- you know the type. Animals
sodomize each other, so why shouldn't we? That sort of
reasoning: the illogical leap from the evolutionary Is to
the ethical Ought, as freshman philosophy classes used to
warn. She also described the way female insects,
especially certain Australian spideresses, devour their
mates during -- or even instead of! -- copulation. I
don't mind knowing it, but I wish she wouldn't tell it
with quite so much relish. Is this the next step for
feminism?
REPRINTED COLUMNS (pages 7-12)
* John Lindh, Patriot (July 16, 2002)
http://www.sobran.com/columns/020716.shtml
* Niceness and the State (July 23, 2002)
http://www.sobran.com/columns/020723.shtml
* Why the Wolves Rule (July 25, 2002)
http://www.sobran.com/columns/020725.shtml
* Laws and Kings (July 30, 2002)
http://www.sobran.com/columns/020730.shtml
* The Conservative War-Mania (August 8, 2002)
http://www.sobran.com/columns/020808.shtml
* War on Wogs (August 13, 2002)
http://www.sobran.com/columns/020813.shtml
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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